


amor mundi

by joanofradius, Senforza



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen, I Think I Got The Archive Warnings Right, I'll Put Content Warnings on Chapters If There's Anything, If There's Violence It's Almost Cartoonish Anyway, Lots of OCs - Freeform, Multi-Fandom Angst, Only Four People In This Story Are Real OCs, They're Basically OCs If They're Caricatures of Real People
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-01-31 12:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12682329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joanofradius/pseuds/joanofradius, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senforza/pseuds/Senforza
Summary: Sometimes, they just wondered where it had all began to go wrong. All they had wanted to do was start a book club in a school literally filled with people who were here because they liked books. And movies. And fandoms. And screaming. For fuck's sake, the place was literally called Fandom High.Ah, Maya realizes. That's where it all went wrong.[Multi-Fandom crossover almost, of the 2012 variety, grown in your backyard and spun into the biggest monstrosity you can imagine. The high school AU that the thirteen year old version of yourself wanted, but got shamed for writing. It's self-indulgence, live with it.]





	1. Prologue: Murder on the Orientation Express

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of love, regrets, remembrance and pain. It is self-indulgent, and I am fully self-indulgent in posting this, or even completing this. But it had to be done some time, I think. I’ve let this sit in the back of my mind for the longest time. 
> 
> The people in this story are based around the fragments of memory that I possess regarding a small internet community that existed on fanfiction.net’s forums, a long time ago. Not so long in the grand scheme of things, but in the process of growing up from child to almost-adult? Five years is a long time. This is RPF, but it’s really not, and I haven’t tagged it as such because of that. They’re characters based off of what I knew of people through the anonymous wall of the Internet, not the people themselves. The people have grown and changed from what they once were (in personality and identity and more, although I’ve tried my best to keep names and pronouns up to date, for the sake of things). Most of them no longer bother talking to me, although I try sometimes. Most of them have moved on.
> 
> This is my way of saying goodbye. It has been a long time coming, but if you know who I’m talking about, then you will know who these people are, and what this work means. I’m not even sure I remember the details, but I have the old drafts and the old messages. You might, if you know what this work means. If not, then read on, but I can’t guarantee you’ll understand everything. There was a girl that I talked to the other day; she had gone through everything and that it felt like she knew us. I don’t know how true that is, but the version of myself that existed in 2012 is not one of which I am fond, and I expect most people feel the same. But this is my way of saying goodbye to that part of me, not goodbye as a whole, but goodbye onto the what-could-have-beens of this part of my life. I’m sure it’ll come back, but I will try for a while. I forget, and then it comes back. It’s sort of seared itself into the curly napkin of my brain, and it’s never really going to leave.
> 
> Maybe I’m not saying goodbye, maybe I’m just making peace. 
> 
> In any case, this was begun by me, continued by Iris, worked on by the both of us for a period of time, and some others, and picked up again in October. It’s been a long while, and we didn’t get through a lot to begin with, so chapters will go up as time permits. 
> 
> Thanks for enrolling in Fandom High. I hope your stay is pleasant, and you don’t get eaten by the harpies.
> 
> (Also, this is not scriptfic. Only the prologue is, and it's a long story. leave the prose alone.)

**Official Transcript: Host #18’s tour with subjects I and J  
** Date: Subliminal  
Season: Mildly Australia 

_Guide #18 (H), navigates the gym with clipboard in hand. She sees a girl (I) and a boy (J) standing together uncomfortably, both with the number 18 pinned to their shirts. She approaches._

H: Hey, you two, you there! Are you two the… er… the Walker twins?

I: Well, he is, I’m not. But yeah, that’s us.

_J remains silent._

_I nudges J._

I: Come on, Jordan. Be nice to the strange, unusual lady.

_J sighs._

J: Hi. I’m Jordan.

H: Why, hello to you too! I’m Hortensia Clarisse Marjorie Brookstanita. I’ll be guiding you through Orientation Day!

_I and J share an amused glance._

I: That sounds like a mouthful.

H: Yeah, I was nicknamed multiple times in High School. You can call me Lisa for short!

_H holds out a hand for I and J to shake. Both do so warily._

H: (to I) Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.

I: Iris. I’m Iris.

_Pause._

J: So, Lisa… what are you going to show us today?

H: Oh, absolutely nothing.

I: …What?

H: Did I confuse you? Whoops.

H: I mean, I’m not going to tell you anything important. This is orientation, after all. That wouldn’t do. How about we talk about some of our past students instead?

J: …What.

I: Are you kidding me?

H: Would you like to hear a story about xgriffins280?

_Pause. H smiles expectantly._

J: …No. No we would not like to hear a story about griffins280.

I: _(whispers)_ It was xgriffins280.

J: _(whispers)_ Shhh don’t bring it up.

_Pause._

I: Sooo…

H: Would you like to hear a story about 00Emilee00?

J: No 00Emilee00, either. Can you tell us something useful? Something about this school as a network instead of a building full of past successes? Info that’s relevant to us?

H: _(doubtful)_ Well, talking about the school’s failures is generally against protocol--

I: No! No failures! Average people. Nice people. We could get to know some nice people.

H: …People?

I: Yeah. Our older siblings go to this school, but we never really visited them a lot so we don’t know a lot of people here.

J: Not that they won’t show us around or anything, but it’d be great to get a headstart on our own.

_Pause._

H: …Would you like to hear a story about—

I: NO MORE STORIES.

J: Iris, this is a school for stories.

J: It is literally called _Fandom High._

I: Shut up, we all know what I meant.

_Further pause. I plucks at shirt sleeve while J taps his foot._

H: …Well, I can’t do much more if you don’t have a gold pass.

I: What—

J: GOLD PASS. RIGHT.

_J rummages in pockets of his Letterman’s jacket._

J: Snow gave one to me the other day.

I: Hey, why you and not me? 

J: I don’t know, because I’m less likely to rip it apart in my pursuit of justice? She said we’d need it.

_J produces vaguely yellow slip of paper from within a pocket. The paper is crumpled and has a tear in it._

I: I don’t know, it looks like it got ripped apart without my justice being involved.

J: Iris?

I: Yes?

J: Shut the fuck up. Lisa, is this a gold pass?

_H receives the paper from J and inspects it closely._

H: …Hm. This really does look like a gold pass, so I guess I’d better start from scratch.

_H turns away from I and J and throws her clipboard at Host #17’s head. Clipboard lands with 94% accuracy and Host #17 falls to the floor without a sound._

H: Now, where was I?

H: Oh, yes. Gold orientation.

_H pauses, glancing at the ceiling as if trying to remember something._

H: Okay, we’ll start with some of the boring background information.

I: Must we?

J: Be quiet.

H: _(ignoring the two)_ Fandom High mysteriously appeared many years ago in a locked plane of existence different from the human plane. Travel between said planes is only permitted at the beginning of summer--one way travel so the students can go home for vacation--and at the end of summer--one way travel so the students can come back for the year. No one knows how it came into being, but it’s always been run by the Panel. Some members of the Panel have come and some have gone. Some are timeless.

I: …Timeless?

H: Well, J.K. Rowling’s a relatively new member of the Panel, all things considered. William, on the other hand, has been around for so long that half of us just call him Billy S.

I: Billy… S…?

_J snorts. I raises an eyebrow._

I: Please tell me it isn’t who I think it is.

H: Oh, he’s very annoyed about it.

J: Poor Shakespeare…

_H waves her hand dismissively._

H: That doesn’t really matter.

H: At any rate, there are many different classes for you to choose from, all of them based on something called a ‘fandom.’ 

H: I’m assuming you know what those are considering you signed up for this school?

_I and J nod._

H: Good. As you may have guessed, some classes are obviously more popular than others. ‘Sherlock’ or ‘Doctor Who’ come to mind. ‘Bronte Sisters’ has a pretty steady flow of students each year, too. Recently, we’ve had to turn ‘Harry Potter’ and ‘Lord of the Rings’ into mass lectures because too many people wanted to take those classes.

_I and J smile._

H: I’d show you around the school right about now, but it’s in the middle of shifting. Unstable time loops. Time distortion. You know, the usual. It’ll probably settle down by the time classes start, but don’t get used to where anything is for now. By tomorrow, this gym will probably be halfway under where the southern moat is. I wouldn’t worry about it.

J: Time distortion?

I: At my old school, kids never had to deal with time distortion.

_I and J jump back as H laughs loudly and suddenly, clapping her hands._

I: What?! Is it my face? Is it my hair?

J: It’s your face _and_ your hair.

I: Shut up!

H: No, no. It’s not your face, or your hair, or your freakishly large nose.

I: Hey!

H: You just made a reference!

I: …I did?

J: Magic School Bus reference.

I: …

I: Magic School Bus.

H: Yes.

I: I haven’t watched that show since I was ten.

H: Doesn’t matter. First rule of Fandom High: Always make references whenever possible.

I: …O…kay?

H: Where was I, then? Oh, yes. Clubs.

J: Actually, you were on time distor—

I: IS THERE A DEBATE CLUB?!

_Pause._

I: Uh, sorry.

H: No, no problem! Fandom High has a large variety of clubs, mainly because the vast number of interests from our various students paired with the ‘magical’ ability of this school to create or vacate a room for anything means that there’s something for everyone. Each student here is required to join one club, but interest groups are optional.

I: BUT DO YOU HAVE A DEBATE CLUB?!

J: Answer her quickly before she spontaneously combusts.

J: And make the answer yes.

J: Or else she might still spontaneously combust.

H: Well, we do, actually. And not just because your brother said so.

I: YES. Okay. Thanks. That’s all I needed to know.

H: …

H: Alright then.

H: The teachers of the school include the members of the Panel as well as other authors, playwrights, poets, directors, and the like that weren’t illustrious enough to make it on the Panel. We also have a ridiculously large amount of teaching assistants, which we’d probably fire if we could. The thing is that the teaching assistants happen to be all the canon characters from any teacher’s given piece of literature or media.

I: …

I: So just to be clear, if I took ‘Harry Potter’ class--

H: Well, if you had joined that class before it became a lecture, you would have J. K. Rowling as your Professor and every major, canon HP character as your TAs.

I: …

I: Best. School. Ever.

H: Yes, we get that a lot. We call them ‘Canons’ for short.

I: I want to meet Phoenix Wright. Now.

H: Uh, who?

J: Ignore her. What were you saying?

H: Yes. Yes. Okay.

H: Normally, we’d be giving new students their Freshman Mentor Assignments. We have a nice system where each Freshman is paired with an upper classman and the two become friends and help each other (main the upper class to the freshman class) over the course of a month.

H: However, it says here that you two are sophomore transfers, correct?

J: Yeah. We went to a regular high school freshman year, but transferred over this year.

H: Usually, you come to Fandom High freshman year if you’re meant to come at all. This isn’t completely unprecedented, but it’s very rare.

J: Yeah, our siblings were saying that it might be because we learned about it from them.

H: I don’t pretend to know. The school works in mysterious ways. At any rate, because of this, we decided not to give you assigned upperclassmen mentors. I trust your siblings will help you two regardless?

_I and J nod._

H: Well, if that’s true, then—

_H is interrupted by Riordan’s TA Assistant #192740394 (PJ) running past. PJ is followed by a mob of freshman orientation subjects (F n)._

F1: PERCY!

F2: CAN I HAVE YOUR AUTOGRAPH?

F3: HEY, HEY! WHAT CABIN AM I BEST SUITED FOR?

_F n is followed closely by a similarly large and panicked mob of guides (Gn) who are at best guess trying to reign in their orientation subjects (Fn)._

G1: Hey! Get back here!

G2: We’re not done with the tour yet!

G3: You can meet Percy if you sign up for PJO Class soon enough!

G4: Don’t you want to hear the story about .oOMondoOo.?

H: What the—

G2: Lisa! Help us!

H: Right!

_H flings gold pass into J’s face. He stumbles back._

H: Orientation’s over! Gift shop’s on the left!

I: Wait! We haven’t even—

H: Sorry, children! We must chase the setting sun, after all! Take this amulet as a token of my affections, but alas, now I must fly! MUSH!

J: What was that even—

_H lets out a war cry as she joins G n. I stares after her for a second before calling out._

I: YOU’RE A TERRIBLE TOUR GUIDE!

_H yells back, her voice fading away as she runs._

H: ME? A TERRIBLE TOUR GUIDE? AU CONTRAIRE, MON FRERE. YOU’RE JUST A TERRIBLE GROUP.

**Remainder of transcript contains footage of the chase and capture of F n. PJ returned to proper classroom with a visit from the PWAA class’s analytical psychology TA (AC). H offered a salary raise.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for playing. This will be crossposted on FFN probably, sometime soon if it isn't up already. I hope this is interesting enough that you stick around. I might add a full character list in the notes sometimes, because it's going to be hard to keep track, but it'll probably be in a later chapter.


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome to the Country Day and Nightmare School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New school! New people! New friends. New... friends? Maybe. 
> 
> Iris and Jordan attempt to navigate Fandom High for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, and (most of) the following chapter, were written in 2015. I have edited it slightly, but it's 2015 content, so be warned for 2015 bad writing and 2015 style plotting. Actually, be totally wary of the 2015 style plotting for this entire fic. Also, this chapter and the next were also written with Iris. Not sure if that's going to keep up at the moment, but just so you know.

“And we are supposed to be going where, exactly?” Iris groaned, sinking to the floor as Jordan studied the orientation map.

“Um… we’re supposed to turn left here.”

“Jordan, there is no left. There is literally every direction but left. There is up. There is down. There is right. There is inverted. We could walk in a spiral and end up in a completely different corridor. But _no left_. Are you sure you’re even reading that map the right way?”

“…No.”

“Well that’s just great.” Iris rolled around on the floor. “We are lost. We are going to die in an unfamiliar school on the first day, being eaten by that thing that lives in the janitor closet on the fifth floor.”

“Iris, I’m pretty sure App made that up just to mess with us. Also, that’s disgusting. You have no idea what’s been there before—”

“Hey, are you guys new? Are you lost?”

“YES.”

“NO.”

The newcomer blinked. She was pretty tall, and definitely Chinese, and was wearing a light brown, high-waisted skirt, sneakers as well as what appeared to be a ratty fandom t-shirt tucked into her skirt. Her dark hair went about a third of the way down her back, but she smiled in a way that made Iris want to fight her. “Well then. You might like to know that the map is still kind of shifting, because today is literally the first day of school. I’m Joan!”

The twins looked her up and down, and exchanged a glance. “Looks safe,” Iris stage-whispered to Jordan. “She seems to be wearing normal clothes, at least.”

“I don’t know,” Jordan whispered back, “I’m not sure I can trust anyone who wears socks with small leeks on them.”

“Shush, at least she doesn’t wear jeans with different fandom-based shirts every day.”

“I should probably tell you that I would,” said Joan, “but skirts are easier to pull off, and also easier to put on. Also,” she continued as Iris opened her mouth to comment, “it’s not eavesdropping if you’re talking very loudly.”

The twins shared a series of silent, violent gestures with each other, then Iris stuck out her tongue at Jordan, who made a face in return and both turned (or in Iris’ case, twisted her torso) back to face Joan.

“Hi?” ventured Iris, getting up and dusting herself off. “I’m Iris Jade. This is Jordan Walker, my twin brother and all around dork. He doesn’t like new people. We’re kind of lost maybe?”

“Can I borrow your schedules?” Iris shrugged, handing them over.

Joan studied them for a few seconds, then blinked. “Oh. Huh. We have the same first period, so I can lead you all the way there. Your brother, on the other hand, is in the wrong block. Supernatural takes place in Chaos, not Bullshit.” She took a deep breath.

“Okay so your classroom is next to the statue that’s kind of shaped like a rat’s tooth, except it’s kind of got a hole in the middle? And the whole block is square, so there are kind of weird corner things — don’t walk into those, you might get sucked into a plot hole. So all you have to do is kind of follow the walrus up the stairs here, and then warp into a black hole, at which point you have to complete a ridiculously complicated dance maneuver and yell ‘I AM ACTUALLY A HORSE’ at exactly 42 decibels, and then pretend to be a fish for thirteen seconds, at which point your classroom will be on your—”

Joan’s eyes glowed and she rose into the air, unintelligible chanting spewing out of her mouth as Iris and Jordan watched on in horror. Iris gingerly poked her foot and Joan blinked, then floated back down.

“—side. Sorry, I got a bit carried away there.”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“So… do you have a backstory?”

“What?” said Iris.

Joan shrugged. “You know, a backstory. How you got into this place, why you’re here, what you want to do here, blah blah blah.”

Iris blinked. “Well, for a starter, we’re actually sophomores. We went to a normal high school for a year but we’ve transferred because our siblings are here. Do you know Apple Kime and Snow Darren?”

Joan’s eyes widened and she grinned. “Oh. OH! You’re Ris and Fish-Panda!”

“WHAT?!”

“Oh. Um. Am I not supposed to call you that? Because that what Snow once referred to you as. She and App are in Choir with me. Can I just say that Apple’s voice is absolutely terrifying? Because it is. Also, if you have siblings, why aren’t they, I don’t know, leading you around?”

“Er. We kind of ditched them for the sake of INDEPENDENCE AND EXPLORATION—”

“Iris, you were the one who dragged me away because you didn’t want to rely on them for the, and I quote, ‘true first day experience’.” Jordan interrupted, rolling his eyes.

“That’s not the point!”

“Whatever.”

“Fine.” Iris turned back to look at Joan. “So what’s your main fandom?”

“I am pure unfiltered one hundred percent Homestuck trash, as approximately ninety percent of my friends will tell you. Although, just saying, I’m actually a multi-fandom-er like most people here. Although some of them like to stick to one fandom just to get in with a certain crowd.” Joan wrinkled her nose in disdain. “It’s weird and gross and I don’t like it. But yeah. Homestuck.”

“That sounds… fun? I’m mainly into Ace Attorney. And Ghost Trick! Jord doesn’t really have a main fandom at most times, if ever.”

“…I mean, I was okay at math back in regular school.” Jordan shrugged.

“Maybe you’ll do okay in Math Class then—”

“WE HAVE MATH?!” Jordan and Joan stepped back as Iris threw her schedule away from her as if it were poisonous. Joan looked wildly at Jordan, who shrugged.

“She hates math.”

“I THOUGHT I JOINED THIS SCHOOL TO GET AWAY FROM MATH WHY DO I STILL HAVE MATH.”

“Uh…because life requirements? Traditional Chinese medicine? Careers? Logic building? I don’t…know?” Joan shrugged. “But math is the only compulsory ‘normal’ course, so that’s a plus—”

“LITERALLY ANYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN MATH.”

“Calm down there, Satan,” Jordan said with a sigh. Iris blinked. “Besides, math isn’t that bad.”

“No, it’s that bad.” Joan nodded sagely, closing her eyes. “The only person who likes math is my weird friend Lizzie. Apparently algebra is their friend.”

“Uh, what—”

“WHO’S FRIENDS WITH ALGEBRA?!”

“Speaking of them, do you guys want to sit with me and my friends today during lunch?” Joan smiled as if Iris wasn’t collapsing onto the floor and sobbing. “We’re a nice, normal bunch. Well, minus the normal. But yeah.”

“Sure, why not. Iris?” When his sister didn’t answer, Jordan shrugged. “Yeah, she’s good with it too.”

“Great!” Joan glanced up at the ceiling expectantly. “Okay, um, we should probably get to class because—”

“VI UNDRAR ÄR NI REDO ATT VARA MED—” blared the speakers.

“…and that’s our cue. Bye Jordan! We’ll meet you for lunch later!”

Joan proceeded to grab Iris and disappear into the crowd. God damn it.

 

.

.

.

“I swear to fuck I am going to murder that girl probably.”

Upon entering Block C, the school map in Jordan’s hand had proceeded to realign itself to show him exactly where his class is. However, he was also ridiculously late.

He then proceeded to crash into something very black and very soft. No, not a plothole.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry are you okay did I accidentally hurt you?” said person yelped.

Jordan looked up and saw the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life. Her skin was pale like a dove’s wing, her eyes were blue like mountain rivers without any fish in them, her hair was dark and sleek as the night, and a concerned frown bent the edges of her lips—

“I may be mildly deceased, but that’s okay.” Jordan shifted slightly, sighing when he felt pain shoot through his foot. “Ugh. Tell me quickly. If I skip class, is it true that they feed your soul to the dragons?”

“Uh…No?” The pretty angel (normal girl) inspected his foot with a frown. “Who’s telling you this bullshit?”

“…Remind me to kill Snow later today.” Jordan fell backwards onto the tiled floor with a groan.

“You can’t do that, they’ve got people from the Marvel and DC fandoms controlling the weather at all times.” The girl smiled as she rolled up her sleeves and produced a wand from her left combat boot. “Here, I’ll help out. As long as no one catches me using fandom powers out in the hall, we should be fine.”

“Is that a HP wand?” Jordan sat up in excitement, wincing as the pain fluctuated.

“Yeah, new students get one at the first HP lecture. Ollivander nearly cries sometimes for some of the larger classes.” The girl flicked her wand. “ _Episkey_.”

Jordan made a noise of relief as his foot righted, only to yelp as the girl abruptly pulled him to his feet. She was pretty strong, all things considered, and was easily able to drag him down the hallway as he screamed, alarmed by the sudden sound of sirens ringing in his ear. “What the fuck?!”

“I told you,” the girl yelled over the sound. “When we use fandom powers outside of class, the sirens go off so they can catch whoever it is. We’re about to have Filch, Argus, an evil stepmother and possibly Smaug on our asses. Luckily for you, I know a place to hide. Follow me!”

Mystery Girl let go of Jordan’s hand as the two bolted down the hallways, occasionally jumping over random holes appearing in the floor. At one point, the two had to hop over a parade of five cats led by Mrs. Norris and at another, had to dodge a tongue of fire that spat out to singe them. In the end, the girl stopped at a large banner depicting the school’s emblem and yanked it aside, disappearing into a hole behind the banner.

“Come on!”

Jordan glanced behind them at the flaming cats and followed.

The small passageway seemed to go on forever, until they reached a small cavern filled with crystals that glowed a faint orange. The girl stopped, sighed and sat down on the stone floor, dust bunnies flying upwards as she did so. “We should be safe for a while. Filch knows the passage, but he doesn’t think the students know about it so he shouldn’t check for us here. Give it half an hour or so and they’ll stop searching, but we still have to be careful.”

Jordan blinked, then cautiously lowered himself opposite her and sighed. “I can’t believe I’m skipping the first class on the first day of school.”

“Well,” Mystery Girl said smoothly, “it’s just SPN. Nothing we can’t catch up on. It’s full of Superwholocks who like to squeal about Jensen Ackles.” She paused. “Not to say that Jensen Ackles isn’t hot or anything, but it does get kind of annoying after a while. To be fair, sometimes it is an interesting class, because it has a lot of material to talk about and we have a lot of people to discuss with.”

“Flaws aside, it’s still class. Even if it doesn’t contribute to my learning half the time, I would like to turn up, you know? Especially because I’m new here, and—”

“Oh my gosh, you’re new?” Jordan raised an eyebrow at her, to which she responded, “sorry! I’m usually more observant than this. But yeah, come to think of it, I’ve never seen you around before.” She extended a hand.

“Water Whisheart.”

Jordan stared at it for a moment, then shook it.

“Jordan Walker.”

.

.

.

“Netishka til Alexandros.”

“Gesundheit.”

“Hello, Gesundheit.”

“No, no, no.” Joan sighed, rubbing her temples. “Her name is Netishka til Alexandros. And Tish, her name is _Iris_ …wait, you know what ‘gesundheit’ means!”

“Just messing with you.” The girl (Tish) pushed her glasses further up her nose. “I’m Tish. Sometimes Toosh. But please don’t call me that. Also, you look like me.”

Iris glanced between both of them. Both were short, that was true. And both were Asian, with round faces that made their glasses stand out more, although Iris was Chinese and Tish was Filipino. Most people in Fandom High seemed to wear ratty fandom t-shirts on a day to day basis, probably since anyone who might judge you on it would also be similarly judged.

Then again, according to Joan, people did wear full cosplay to class sometimes, so really, this wasn’t as awful as it could be. Today, Tish had decidedly paired a Final Fantasy VIII shirt with a long skirt that went down to her sandals.

“Yep!” Iris nodded, pushing her own glasses up and pulling her chair closer to the desk. “I think your hair’s longer than mine, though. But what a coincidence!”

“Hey! You guys could be twins. Or triplets, or whatever.” Joan grinned. “Then Jordan would be related to Tish too, and you’d all know each other!”

“Uh, no, then we’d be long lost siblings separated at birth.” Tish shrugged. “Anyway. What were you talking about again?”

“Joan was telling me about the campus and the people and all that fun stuff and how Fandom High is _totally great_.” Tish raised an eyebrow.

“Oh… kay? What exactly did she tell you?”

“No basically I was talking about the various cliques and stuff. Like. The cheerleaders and friends, I guess. And us and friends. And people. Like the Superwholock fandom. Because ew.”

Iris tilted her head. “Wait, what the hell is the Superwholock fandom and why?”

“Oh, right.” Tish replied, casually filling in her worksheet, “that’s the Supernatural, Doctor Who and Sherlock fandoms. They’re not exactly the most hospitable group. They have this strong sense of vaguely misplaced fandom pride, so if you say anything bad about them they may or may not lynch you.” She made a weird, discontented sound. “Even if you’re saying things that are somewhat reasonable.”

“But don’t most fandoms act that way?” Joan sighed. “Well, if your fandom is problematic, most fandoms would at least acknowledge that they’re problematic. And while some of the individuals within the fandoms do, lots of them are assholes about it.” Then she smirked. “Except the Homestuck fandom. If you talk shit about Homestuck, the entire fandom will ironically agree with you and throw a party to commemorate it. And the Glee fandom. They will bash themselves with you.”

Tish leaned over and flailed a bit, managing to thwack Joan. “Stop soapboxing and don’t be an ass about Superwholock to newbies on their first day.”

“Ow, you hit me, owww—”

Tish rolled her eyes at Joan, who was rubbing her head and moaning in pain as though she had been hit by a sledgehammer, rather than a squishy person hand. “Shut up.” She turned back to Iris, who looked vaguely concerned, but also amused. “So um. Is there anything else you want to know?”

“Tell me about the classes, I guess?”

Joan immediately recovered and her wide grin returned to her face. “Oh, classes are fun. Except those with problematic creators, those kind of suck. Problematic creators usually mean problematic series, and those aren’t really fun. I mean, even if you can enjoy the material in spite of the creators or whatever. Fandom discourse is confusing.” She paused for breath.

“But yeah, you know how classes are taught by the authors and other creators, right? So most classes have their share of fangirling. Because Fandom High. But also, most of the material is meta talk, like the corruption of the Ministry of Magic, or how a modern Wizarding World would look like. Things like that.”

“Also,” Tish added, “if you go for a video games fandom, like Ass Creed or Final Fantasy, you kind of get a behind the scenes look at stuff. Also, some classes have a lot of hands on work. So you might get to build mechas. And fight in them.”

“And play Quidditch.” Joan ticked off her fingers. “And play Quodpot. And fight in the BattleDome, most classes have at least five lessons there. And go on fieldtrips to the Forest. Some classes have practicals in the Shooting Range, like the Hunger Games fandom. And the Disney fandom, on Brave days. And also—”

“Hey guys, what are you talking about?” An Indian girl with a round face and curly hair bounced over from the other side of the classroom. She was wearing a t-shirt that Iris identified as saying ‘the Mountain Goats’. She had no idea what that was, but it sure sounded interesting. “Also, who’s this?”

“Oh, hi Drift!” Joan turned to Iris. “Iris, Drift Winters. She is a precious cinnamon roll. This,” she gestured to the brunette who followed behind Drift, “is Lizzie Piscatelli. Lizzie is good at clothes. Drift, Lizzie, this is Iris Jade. She’s new and stuff.”

“Hi! They/them pronouns, please.” Lizzie chirped, tucking a streak of peacock green-dyed hair behind their ear and pulling up two more chairs. Iris cocked her head to the side in confusion, and shifted her chair slightly to make room.

“Pronouns?”

Lizzie waved a hand somewhat dismissively. “Oh, I’m non-binary, which means that I don’t really identify with either of the binary genders—that’s male and female.” they added. “I use gender-neutral pronouns as a result.” Iris looked lost, and Lizzie paused for a moment. “Got it?”

“Give me a moment to process.”

Lizzie stared at her, then shrugged. “Okay. Basically, just use they instead of she or he and them instead of her or him for me.” Iris looked at Joan, who shrugged.

“Gender neutral pronouns will one day rule over the earth and we should all just accept them.”

There was another awkward pause. “So,” Lizzie continued, “is Joan trying to convert you to Homestuck?”

Joan made a face. “I don’t do that to everyone, you know.”

“Liar.” Drift, Lizzie and Tish chorused, then burst out laughing.

“Alright now, settle down.” A man with glasses entered the class, followed by another without hair, and finally a young man with arrow-shaped tattoos on his limbs and head that Iris recognized as the mark of an airbending master.

“I’m Mr. Konietzko, this is Mr. DiMartino, and I’m sure most of you recognize our TA for today.”

Iris and Joan exchanged grins. This year was going to be _awesome_.

.

.

.

For a place in a school that was supposed to encompass all fields of media and fiction, the Fandom High cafeteria was surprisingly normal. The walls were a nice shade of sky blue, and there was a glass ceiling through which sunlight was streaming through. There were tables, and the benches were reasonably well used, but Iris knew that they weren’t horrendously dirty from her quick glance on the way to the lunch queue. Most of them had already been filled up by chattering students, all of whom seemed to be split up into various, Mean Girls-esque cliques.

Iris still couldn’t get over the fact that it was round, though. Were cafeterias usually round?

“So, what do you want?” The Lunch Lady asked. “And be quick, you’ve spent way too much time staring at the cafeteria already. What are you, a goldfish?”

Iris mumbled something about how that was speciesist and stared at the dishes offered. Apple pie. Lembas bread. …Freeze-dried cucumberquats?

“Seaweed noodles, please!” Joan said cheerfully. Iris gulped and repeated her order. The Lunch Lady rolled her eyes (literally. Like one whole three sixty degrees round) and handed them two bowls of steaming green noodles.

“Where exactly are we sitting?” Iris asked, looking around. Most of the tables here seemed to be full, although the place wasn't that big: compared to some other places she had heard of, Fandom High seemed to be a moderately sized school, although she was pretty sure the waiting list was a wild ride. She and Jordan had only gotten in so quickly because Apple and Snow had managed to convince school management to fast-track their applications.

“Good question. Oh wait!” Joan bounced over to a nearby table. “Hey Sunny, can we sit with you guys?”

“You can’t sit with us!” said its black-haired, ponytailed occupant in an affected Valley Girl accent.

Joan stared the girl, who Iris assumed was Sunny. “Really?”

The girl dropped the accent, falling into a Southern drawl. “Nah, just kidding. Sure.”

Joan happily plonked herself down on the bench, Iris cautiously following suit and scanning the table’s occupants. There was Sunny, of course, sitting in the middle and eating strawberry shortcake. But there were two girls next to her who Iris had never seen before.

Both were distinctly Asian, but the one on Sunny’s left had hair that fell to her chin. Probably Chinese, Iris noted as the girl glanced downwards to her seemingly more appetising carbonara and poked it with a fork. On the other hand, Sunny’s second companion had sharper (Korean?) features and looked like she was trying her best to fade into the background but wasn’t exactly succeeding. She had a small booklet in front of her on the table, though, which Iris recognised, marking her as another newcomer to the school. “Oh, hey, are you a freshman?”

“Who’s the new kid?” asked Bob Girl, smoothly ignoring her question.

Joan started. “Oh! This is Iris Jade. Iris, this is Sunny Summers—” Iris snickered. Sunny rolled her eyes.

“I was feeling uncreative and since half of these aren’t our real names anyway, it works, okay?” Joan laughed in response. “Oh, shut up. Anyway, she/her pronouns for me.”

Joan blinked. “Oh, right.” She gestured to Bob Girl. “Anyway, this is Tate Taterson. I mean, Potato. I mean, Kate. Well, her name is Kate, but pretty much everyone calls her Tate, so it doesn’t really matter.”

Tate waved, stuffing pasta into her mouth. She tried to say something, gesturing past Sunny, towards Freshman-Who-Was-Probably-Korean, but it all came as “Mmmmmpppphmhph.” “Friend, I have absolutely no idea what you’re saying,” said Joan, clearly entertained.

Tate tried to respond and started choking. Sunny patted her on the back. “I think she was trying to say something approximating to ‘Sunny has a new friend too.’ So, um, this is Maya Irna. She’s my freshman buddy. Maya, say hi.”

“Hi?” said Freshman tentatively. They hesitated for a moment, then continued. “Um. Any pronouns are fine with me.” Iris nodded. “Great, now that we all know each other, where the hell is Jordan?”

Sunny, Tate and Maya looked befuddled by this statement. “Her twin brother. They’re new sophomores and have separate classes.” Joan explained, at which the trio gave a simultaneous nod of understanding.

“Wait, you have a twin too? Sweet!” Tate, who had finally stopped coughing, grinned. “Mine is called Andie.” She paused. “Well, I mean, we’re not biologically twins, but Fandom High doesn’t really care about the validity of half of your application information anyway.”

“Talking about me?” Tate swiveled to face an Indian girl with a Cheshire Cat grin on her face. Literally. “Cheshire, please get off my face,” Andie sighed. The purple cat blinked its large blue eyes and disappeared with a flash of its tail.

“Still never getting used to that. Did you just come out of Disney?” Tate asked, moving aside. Andie sat down and slumped forward.

“Yep. Today’s TA took a liking to my face, describing it as ‘soft and comfortable’,” Andie said, making quotation marks with her fingers. The rest of the group simultaneously winced.

“Man, that must have sucked,” Joan said, slurping up a mouthful of noodles. “We had Aang just now, and then Steven Stone and Annabeth Chase and some other people that I can’t remember right now. They weren’t so bad.”

“How bad can the TAs be, though?” asked Maya thoughtfully. “Aren’t they supposed to be, I don’t know, assisting?”

Sunny shrugged. “Well, some are, I guess. It’s pretty unpredictable. Some try to help I get, but it’s really a matter of luck. You could get anyone from Kronos to Tom Bombadil, both of which have their own pros and cons. Mostly cons, though.”

Iris blinked in confusion. “Wait, what’s so bad about Tom Bombadil?”

“Tom Bombadil sucks,” said Andie cheerily. “One time I couldn’t get a thing in LotR and started doodling worms on the side of my worksheet. He literally appeared right next to me and started reciting poetry about paying attention in class. It was a long poem. And also not very good. I think it may or may not have taken up at least ten minutes, at which point dearest J.R.R., bless his soul, told him to stop or he would confiscate his pipe forever.”

“…okay then. Back to the point,” Joan said, snickering, “where is Jordan, though? It’s been fifteen minutes, and I don’t think any sibling of Apple’s would run this late.”

.

.

.

“Oh my God, I’m running so late.” Jordan groaned, shoving himself out of his seat and sprinting towards the door.

“For what?” Water trailed after him and cocked her head to the side, her high heels clacking against the ground. “It’s lunch. There aren’t any classes going on now.”

Jordan sighed and slowed to a stop. “I kind of agreed to meet my sister and this girl we met earlier for lunch. Her name was Joan, I think.”

“Joan Snowdancer?” Water raised an eyebrow as Jordan shrugged in a vaguely hopeless ‘I have no idea’ sort of way. “She’s okay, I guess, if a little bit strange. Then again, pretty much everyone here is, so that doesn’t say much. Her main fandom is Homestuck if I remember correctly, and I think I’ve sat through a few lectures with her. She asked a lot of enthusiastic questions, I think.”

“I wouldn’t know, I literally saw her for like, five minutes.”

“Although,” Water said thoughtfully, “I guess she does seem like the type to randomly strike a conversation with the new kids. In any case, I don’t see why she would invite you to sit with her for lunch.”

Jordan shrugged, then picked up the pace again. “Anyhow, I should probably go.”

“Why?” Water grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around to face her. “Dude, you probably met her for a total of five minutes. You’re not obligated to follow up on your promise. You should eat lunch with me and my friends.”

“Well…” Jordan scratched the nape of his neck. “I don’t know, okay? I mean, I technically just met you too. Even if it was for a bit longer. Plus, I think my siblings want to catch up with me. And. Uh. Stuff.”

“Oh.” Water tapped her chin with a manicured, dark blue nail. “Well then, I guess you can always have lunch with me another day. See you around then.” She smiled prettily at him and vanished around the corner.

Jordan felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “Yeah, see you,” he muttered, shaking his shoulders with a shudder.

.

.

.

“Hey, who’s that guy sitting next to App and Snow? The one with dark hair, looks pretty tall.” Tate asked. “He’s kind of cute. Like, I would totally go out with him.”

Iris glanced over at her siblings, then cracked up. Joan turned around, then followed suit.

“Is there something going on here that we should know about?” Sunny said, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh my God, Tate. That’s my _brother_ —” Iris managed to gasp out, before bursting into laughter all over again. Joan tried to say something, but then started coughing. Andie gingerly patted her on the back.

“Ah.” Sunny waited patiently for Iris to stop laughing, before saying, “I don’t know, Tate, why don’t you ask him out?”

“Oh my God, no.” Tate snorted, before taking a sip of her drink. “He’s hot, but asking people out is absolutely terrifying and should never be attempted.”

Iris snickered. “I’m going to tell Jordan you thought he was hot.”

“Please don’t—”

“JORDAN! CAN YOU COME HERE?” Iris yelled across the room. The entire cafeteria fell completely silent for a full five seconds before resuming its usual chatter. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“Iris!” Tate yelped. “Please don’t do this to me, oh God why, why are you so mean you’re new, I’m just a simple potato I didn’t ask for any of this—”

“What do you want from me?” Jordan said, “I was going to sit with Apple and Snow.” He gestured towards the pair, who waved vaguely before returning to their conversation.

“God damn it.” Tate swore under her breath.

“Jordan!” Iris grinned and elbowed Tate in the ribs, causing her to yelp once more. “My friend said you were hot. Like burning hot. Like, on fire.” She paused. “Actually, the back of your shirt is kind of a little bit on fire. You might want to put it out.”

“OH MY GOD WHAT—” Jordan twisted himself around and immediately dropped on the floor and started rolling around.

“Jordan, you’re making a scene.” Joan said amusedly.

“I AM ON FIRE. THIS IS A PERFECTLY APPROPRIATE TIME TO MAKE A SCENE. IS IT OUT? AM I OUT? _AM I NO LONGER IN THE STATE OF BEING ON FIRE_?”

Iris laughed. “Yeah, you’re out. You can get up now.”

Jordan got up, muttering under his breath. Iris heard something that sounded like “that fucking Whisheart girl” and “firebending” and “murder”. “Is there anything else that you wanted to tell me, or can I head back to Apple’s table now.”

“Gosh Jord,” Iris clicked her teeth, “no need to be so cold. I mean, I know you were just on fire and all, but you agreed to eat lunch with us.”

“Okay, but this is a table full of girls and I am intimidated.” Jordan said. “Also, my tray is already over there and I don’t want to carry it all the way over here. That is at least three feet away.”

“So rude,” Joan joked.

“I literally met you for five minutes and you spent at least one of them floating in the air, chanting demonic phrases.”

“They weren’t demonic!” Joan protested. “I, a good Christian, would never do such a thing. Also, I was chanting in—” Joan’s eyes started to glow orange as she continued talking unintelligibly.

“Joan.” Sunny tapped her lightly on the shoulder. “You’re doing the thing again.”

“Oh.” The glow faded from her eyes. “Sorry.”

“...anyway. I’m not spending the entirety of my first day without my twin brother.” Iris grabbed her schedule, ignoring Joan’s comment on ‘aw, sibling relations, how sweet’ and flipped to the events page. “There’s the activities fair later, so if you’re not sitting with us for lunch, you have to look for us there. Or I’ll string you from a pole, or something.”

Jordan snorted derisively. “You and what army.”

“The Hetalia fandom on a 2P day.”

“Oh. Right. I’ll see you then, then.”

.

.

.

“So, what clubs are you guys going to join? Iris? …Iris? Where the hell did you go?”

“DEBATE IS MY ONE TRUE LOVE,” Maya heard in the distance.

Sunny blinked. “Well, that’s one less greenie to worry about, I guess? But yeah, what are you preparing to join?”

Maya looked around the Activities Fair, biting their lip. Frankly, they had no idea, and not for a lack of choice.

Somewhere to the right, the cheerleading club was performing stunts on top of a pyramid, while Dance was matching them with an elaborately-choreographed dubstep routine in the middle of the lake. The theater club and jousting club were fighting over the lances, spurred on by the yelling of the debate club (who were now arguing heatedly over the ethics of the Plank of Carneades). When no one was looking, the smithing club grabbed the lances and began melting them down for metal, re-forging them into small metallic statues of cuddly wolves.

“Uh. Why are they doing that?” Maya pointed at the small cuddly wolves, who the mechanics club were now programming to run around and yip incessantly.

“Probably to spite the Werewolf Appreciation Club.” Sunny shrugged her shoulders. “Apparently the leaders were dating and broke up.”

“...Okay?” “So, the sign up board is over here—oh, hi Joan.” Sunny fist-bumped her friend in greeting; the girl was standing next to Jordan, eagerly spurring him on as he stood with indecision, pencil in hand.

“JORDAN JORDAN.” Joan jumped up and down. “Oh, hey Sunny.” She turned back to the boy. “FOOTBALL CLUB.”

“Hey, JOAN, JOAN.” Jordan jumped to face the girl with mock excitement. “I HAVE NO IDEA WHETHER YOU MEAN AMERICAN FOOTBALL OR INTERNATIONAL FOOTBALL, BUT I’M GOING TO ASSUME THAT YOU MEAN THE LATTER BECAUSE IT’S SO MUCH BETTER.”

“NO I MEAN LITERAL AMERICAN FOOTBALL. ALSO, DIFFERENTIATION IS HARD AND I’M NOT THAT BAD AT WORDS. I THINK.” Joan snatched the pencil from his hand, running over to a list adorned by small leather rugby balls and pictures of wrestling helmeted and padded men. “THIS ONE.”

“Give that back!” Jordan plucked back the pencil and scribbled Iris’s name under debate club before leaning over to place his name under the soccer club. Sunny abruptly leapt forward before he could do so and grabbed the pencil, shoving it into her mouth.

“...Ew.”

“SUNNY WHY.”

“I’M SORRY!” She spat it out, grabbing a bottle of water from the passing track team (‘GIVE THAT BACK!’) and swishing out her mouth. “IT WAS THE ONLY THING I COULD THINK OF.”

“Whatever.” Joan sighed. “This is the sign up place, so there’s probably more pencils—”

There were no more pencils.

“WHO RUNS THIS SCHOOL?!” Joan whined. “Actually, I think there were more pencils here before.” Jordan shrugged. “The Art Club passed by and took them all, remember?”

“ARE THERE THAT MANY MEMBERS?!”

“No, but someone’s making a life sized statue of J. K. Rowling out of pencils.” Sunny jerked a thumb in that general direction.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME.”

“No.”

Joan continued whining, and wandered off to find more pencils. Jordan glanced at the sign up sheets once more, then made an annoyed noise. “Well, I can’t sign up for anything while lacking writing utensils, unless I grab someone and use their blood as ink or something. I’m pretty sure injuring other students is illegal, though.”

“Yeah, well, I still haven’t decided what I’m going to sign up for,” Maya muttered. Sunny, who had heard them, replied, “don’t worry about it. It’s fine not to join a club. Except that you might not have much of a social circle. Which is fine too, I guess.”

Maya resolved to find a club to join before they accidentally committed social suicide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read this far, feel free to leave a comment rating 'how much this fic sounds like it came from 2013' on a scale of 1 to 5. Decimals are acceptable. 
> 
> Next chapter will be up probably on Saturday, or something, if I pressure myself to write more this week, but I'm also in the middle of my literal final exams in formal, state-imposed schooling, so who knows. Maybe longer. The chapter is done, but I need to write the next one. It's complicated.


	3. Chapter Two: Clubbing With the Non Alcoholic Spirit of Fandom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Hell! Welcome to Hell! Maya is on her way to making more friends. More friends? Maybe. Meanwhile, Jordan sits at Water's lunch table for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the funniest part of all this complaining about math is actually that some of these people are possibly intending to study/are actually studying compsci at university, so really, it all came back to math in the end. This chapter was co-written with Iris, as per the last two. 
> 
> This is, by the way, a chapter that was written partly in 2015, and partly in 2017. I think the shift in narrative voice is pretty distinct, but that's because I wrote it. I dunno, you decide. Leave your favourite character (person??) in the comments or something. The main similarities that fic!me share with irl!me are 1) being whiny, 2) not shutting up about Homestuck, and 3) being unnecessarily dramatic about everything. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

“NONE OF THESE CLUBS SPEAK TO ME ON AN EMOTIONAL LEVEL,” Maya moaned, letting their head fall forward onto the desk. They’d borrowed a list of clubs from Sunny’s student handbook (having lost their own), and was scanning through said list, slamming their head on the table each time they found one that particularly didn’t fit. “This one sucks. Nope, not this one. Ugh, that’s disgusting. Why does Fandom High have a Feet Anonymous club again?”

“As I said, you don’t need to join a club,” Sunny reminded the freshman. “Also, don’t yell in the library. It’s rude.”

“You also said that not joining one would basically be social suicide!”

The librarian glared at the two, making a shushing noise. Sunny made a vague waving gesture with her hand. “Look, what I was saying was that I encourage you to join a club because you get to _meet_ people. There are other ways to meet people than clubs.”

Maya stared at her.

“Okay, not really.”

Maya slumped forward again. Sunny patted their head. “Cheer up, I’m sure you’ll find something that suits you.”

“But what if I don’t? What if I’m alone forever? What if I have no friends and die alone in a hole?” Maya moaned. “I should just make my own club. Why can’t I just make my own club with people who share my interests?”

Sunny shrugged. “Well, uh, there’s nothing stopping you?”

“I mean it’s not like—” Maya paused, then cocked their head to the left and blinked at Sunny. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I think the main office has forms for it or something. I’m not sure if you have to approach the Council or the Panel or whatever, but I don’t think so. But you have to have an official focus for your club, and all that.”

The freshman rolled their eyes. “Oh, that’ll probably be easy. I’ll just make it a general book interest group or something. Like, for fanatics. Book fanatics. Does that sound legit enough to you?”

“Could use some work,” Sunny shrugged, “but it sounds promising.”

“Great!” Maya picked up their things, then grabbed Sunny’s arm and dragged them to the library door.

“Wait what are you doing—” Sunny waved hastily to the librarian, who rolled her eyes at the pair and continued stamping books. “Where are we even going?”

“To get the forms. It’s not like it’s hard or anything, I mean you said they were in the office—”

“Woah woah woah oh my God Maya stop.” Maya stopped, causing Sunny to crash into her. “I’m pretty sure there are some other stuff in those things too! And Senior Management runs the office, and Senior Management is absolutely terrifying so we’ve got to have the necessary clearance and stuff before we go, and we need a teacher I/C or something like that.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just ask one of the TAs hanging around, or one of those interns that always seem to be hanging around, or one of the substitute teachers or something. It’s not that hard.”

Sunny stared at them, then sighed. “Do you even know who you want for this club? Who are you going to get into it? What is the point of all of this?”

“Uh, that’s the part that forming the club is supposed to solve.”

Sunny sighed again. “Yeah, but you need a few people in to kick things off first.”

“That’s what you have friends for, don’t you?” Maya looked at her doubtfully. “I mean, you’re helping me, right?”

The sophomore looked at her buddy, realised how determined they were and sighed once more. It didn’t help that she was still panting from being dragged everywhere.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Maya grinned, and pumped their fist in the air. “This is going to be great!”

.

.

.

Devi Dragons had dealt with many strange situations over the course of her life, but watching her roommate roll around on the floor, denouncing their existence was a first.

“THIS IS THE ACTUAL WORST.”

Devi stared at her roommate, who was currently splayed out dramatically on the floor of their shared room, while flailing and surrounded by multiple stacks of paper. “Maya, I’m sorry, but I have literally no idea what you’re attempting to do.”

Maya made a groaning noise, then stuffed their head into a nearby beanbag. It was a good thing Fandom High allowed students to customize the content of their rooms, Devi noted. “...do you need help, or something?”

Maya poked their head out of the beanbag pile, stared at the tower of forms for a good ten seconds, then slammed their head back into the cushions. “I hate my life. Why did I decide to do this. Why me, Devi. _Why me_.”

Devi shrugged in response, but made a concerned face. “No seriously, do you need help? Those look like they would take a lot of work to fill in, even with me doing it with you. Can’t you call like, Sunny or something?”

Maya made a vague squawking noise, then replied, “Sunny has her own set.”

This was accompanied by an ear-splitting screech from approximately two floors above them.

“In fact,” Maya said in the most deadpan voice that Devi had ever heard come out of their mouth, “that would probably be her right now.”

“Ah,” said Devi.

“Yeah.”

The two of them sat in awkward silence for a moment. Devi ran down the list of people she knew Maya was talking to in the school. While they didn’t frequent exactly the same crowds, word did get around that Maya was fraternising with some of Fandom High’s biggest troublemakers, most notably her buddy’s clique of friends.

Devi didn’t know them well, being a freshman herself, but she had heard from her own buddy (they had instructed Devi to call them Zee, which Devi accepted as a token eccentricity) that Joan Snowdancer and Sunny Summers were infamous for meddling in a wide variety of events during their freshmen year. These events may or may not have included every single big event during the year.

Zee had refused to divulge the exact details of the incidents, so Devi had reasoned that either the events heavily involved Zee, (which would make sense, because Sunny was Zee’s roommate, if not for the fact that Zee wasn’t one to go looking for trouble) or were just one long string of Noodle Incidents.

Knowing Fandom High, it was probably the latter.

“Can’t you ask the people that you’ve been hanging out with—”

“Nrrrrrrrrgh.” Maya rolled over, staring at the ceiling. “I’m not sure that they would want me to ask them? I mean I’ve only known them for so long and it’s weird and ugh.”

Devi stared at her roommate lying prostrate on the floor. “Yeah, but I’ve known you for approximately that long, and here I am, still offering to help you with… whatever it is you’re doing, anyway.”

Maya sighed. “I decided, approximately six hours ago, that it would be an _excellent_ idea to form a club for those with my weird, yet varied shared interests. But the problem is that I’m sitting here now, trying to fill in a shit-ton of forms for this club that I’m not even sure anyone would join anyway.”

Devi picked up a form on top of one of the stacks. “‘I haven’t thought up a club name yet.’” She read off the paper, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t believe you literally wrote this down.”

“I’m not very original, okay.”

Maya’s roommate patted their shoulder. “You’re fine! You just seem very stressed. I’m going to get my pens and some extra paper because I am a good friend and roommate. Meanwhile, you should call your friends and tell them to help you out. And by that I mean, stick your head out the window and start screaming until someone starts yelling back.”

.

.

.

“OH MY GOD MAYA, SHUT UP!”

“You’re one to talk!” Maya yelled back at their buddy. Sunny glared at her from the balcony two floors above. “You were screeching literally ten minutes ago!”

“Yeah, but I was yelling in frustration, not help!”

“Yeah, well so am I!”

“To be fair,” Joan’s amused face poked out from the window two rooms down from Sunny, “you’re both making a lot of frustrated noises and that’s probably attracting attention. Like, I’m sure that Iris could probably hear the both of you all the way from… wherever she is.”

“I think she and Jordan are staying with Apple and Snow?” Sunny shrugged. “They’re siblings, so I think they managed to get one of the houses.” She paused for thought. “Actually, it might have been Lobster, I heard that new people were moving in there this year.”

“Yeah, well, anyway.” Maya sighed. God, they needed to stop getting sidetracked. “I have a lot of forms because I’ve been trying to form a club. Unfortunately, I am also dying slowly inside so it would be great if you could help with them.”

Joan’s eyes widened to their full capacity, which was slightly terrifying and indicated her interest. “Ooh, club for what? Can I join? Is there food?”

“Yeah, club for what?” Tate’s head poked out from the floor below Maya. “What the hell are you guys talking about, anyway?”

“Maya wants to start a club, there are a lot of forms, she’s dying slowly.” Sunny’s voice held a note of laughter. “Hey, Rule of Three!”

Tate made a face of disgust in response. “Ew, forms? Do you need help or something? Me and Andie are free about now.”

“God Tate, you can’t just assert that. I have important things to do,” replied Andie, whose voice came from the adjacent window, “like cleaning my room, and also doing my homework, and also watching Doctor Who.”

Tate rolled her eyes. “Andie, the newest episode of Doctor Who came out two days ago. I know this, because I saw you watch the episode. In fact, I was literally sitting next to you as we watched the episode _together_ , because we are roommates, and also take the same class.”

“Well I mean, it’s good to watch things more than once for analysis purposes.” A good-natured, high-pitched voice wandered its way down to Maya. The phrase “HI DRIFT” came from Joan, who had apparently moved to her balcony, about seven times, and Drift responded in kind.

“And you need to catch all the smaller details too. It’s hard to do that when you’ve only seen it once.” Another unknown voice joined her. Sunny had mentioned Drift’s existence in passing earlier, so Maya assumed that this was probably Drift’s roommate, Lizzie.

Maya sighed. “Okay, but guys, I still need to fill in all these Goddamn forms.”

“What forms?” Drift and Probably-Lizzie chorused. Maya groaned again.

“Honestly, if you need help with your club forms,” said Joan amusedly, “me and Tish could just pop down and get forms from you right now. Or like, from Sunny or something.”

“My stack is bigger than Sunny’s.”

Joan muttered something that sounded vaguely like a dick joke. Almost immediately, a slapping noise came from Joan’s room, followed by a yelp of pain. “Ow, I have been injured, Sunny, please send help.”

“Don’t make dick jokes in front of the fetus,” Maya heard Tish saying faintly. “I understand that your personality is largely composed of such things, but the child is tiny.”

“I don’t know whether to feel offended by that or not,” Maya replied. They felt a headache coming on.

Joan made some strange noises that Maya interpreted as vaguely apologetic and glared across the balconies at Sunny, who was laughing hysterically. “Fight me, Sunny.”

“Sure.” Sunny acknowledged, and Maya didn’t even need to look up to know that she was smirking. “1V1 in the BattleDome let’s go—”

“Guys!” Tate interrupted, sounding exasperated. “The forms?”

“Yeah, could you please come and get them from my room please I am literally drowning in them and they are supposed to be due ASAP. That means like, the crack of dawn, tomorrow.”

Sounds of agreement came from around Maya.

They sighed heavily and called out words of thanks. This was going to be a pain in the ass.

.

.

.

“This is the worst nice thing I’ve ever done oh my God. Andie, why did I agree to do this?” Tate paced her living room as said twin perched herself on the couch and shrugged.

“Maybe it’s because you’re a nice person?”

“God, I wish.” Tate pulled a disgusted face and sat down on the carpet. “These are FORMS. And I don’t know the ANSWERS to half of these. And half of them don’t make any sense!”

Andie shrugged again, carefully detaching another form from the pile that had been presented to them by a desperate Maya. “I don’t know, I think this is pretty fun.” She crossed the room to the balcony. “HEY GUYS,” she yelled out of the balcony, “HOW MANY PURPLE TACO?”

“THIRTY SIX.” Was the response that came back. From Maya, Tate presumed. Or maybe Sunny.

“THANKS SUNNY.” There was her answer. Tate stared at the forms. How the hell was she going to fill in half of these, let alone all of them?

Tate glanced towards the clock, with its hour hand exactly at the eleven mark. It made the TARDIS noise and Andie jumped. “God, we’ve got to change that at some point, I keep thinking the Doctor is actually here.”

Tate ignored her comment. “Say, is Maya still around? Or are we just filling these forms in by ourselves?”

“I don’t know, actually,” replied Andie, “I think they said something about looking for more victims?” She turned the page on the form and yelled once more, “SUNNY, HOW MANY DUCK IS FIFTEEN?”

“THREE, I THINK.” was the reply. Tate fell on her back and and started counting the glow in the dark stars they had stuck onto the ceiling. Seriously though, where was the person in charge of all of this?

.

.

.

“IRIS.” Someone slammed their fists on the door from the outside. “IRIS ARE YOU HOME.”

Iris ignored it in favour of continuing her game of Ghost Trick. She had a _test_ tomorrow. Professor Takumi (and he had insisted that they call him _Professor_ Takumi) had slammed the gavel really hard and declared it such.

There was some shuffling downstairs, and she heard the door open, and then Apple’s weary voice. “What do you want. It’s close to midnight.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry about that.” Door-Slammer-Who-Sounded-Like-Maya apologised. “Does Iris live here?” Iris swore under her breath.

There was a pause, and then Apple’s voice called up the stairs. “IRIS, THERE’S A SMALL ASIAN PERSON HERE LOOKING FOR YOU.”

Iris screeched, and missed the cue on her game. The screen flashed the Game Over sign, and she screamed again, scowling at it. She would get it some day. Turning off her personal electronic device, she grabbed it, rolled off her bed and padded down the stairs to the living room.

“What what what what what what what what. I was playing _Ghost Trick_ . And you made me lose! And the test is _tomorrow_.” She placed the device on the coffee table, flounced to the door, then confirmed that she was indeed staring at Maya before switching to a grin. “Oh hey… Maya, right? What do you want?”

Maya blinked, thrown off. “Um, yes, that is indeed my name. I was wondering if you would be interested in forming a club?”

“DEBATE HOLDS MY SOUL FOREVER.”

“It’s not high commitment, I swear!” Maya objected. “We’ll just meet up once a week to yell about books, and also life. Or something or other.”

“Oh.” Iris stared at her, then tilted her head to the side. “Yeah, sure. Do you want me to ask Jordan too?”

Maya shrugged. “Yeah, whatever. But um, you’ve got to fill in these forms here and write your names here and when you want me to collect them just screech and bye.”

Maya then proceeded to take three steps and vanish into the night. Apple squinted into the the endless void and yanked the door shut, muttering something about tiny people.

Iris looked over the form for maybe ten nanoseconds before going back into the house and picking up her electronic device again, throwing the papers over her shoulder. The entire stack separated and ended up everywhere in the living room. A girl with glasses sitting on the couch looked up and raised an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you going to do any of that?”

“What, those? No way, Snow.” Iris scoffed. “I’ve got a _test_ tomorrow. Call Apple and tell her there’s paperwork; she’s a slimy government bureaucrat, she loves this sort of thing.”

“I resent that statement.” Apple, who had opened the door, rolled her eyes. “I’d like to think of us as gently squishy and damp.” She picked up a form, then skimmed through it briefly before dropping it back onto the pile. “Anyway, I can’t help you fill these in. As a ‘government bureaucrat’,” she made finger quotes, “I’m not allowed to help fill in forms for club activities. Unless I’m in the club already.”

“Come on, App.” Iris didn’t look up from her personal electronic device, turning around and approximating where Apple was. She pointed her stylus two feet to the right of her stomach. “Government employees break rules for their loved ones all the time. All you have to do is take the blame and resign in disgrace later.”

Apple continued staring at her. Iris shrugged, still not looking up. “Just doooooo it. And tell Jordan to fill those in too. Oh, and Maya said something about names so you might want to do that too, whatever it is.” She paused. “Also I don’t endorse Nike. Or she doesn’t endorse me. It goes both ways.”

Apple muttered something about ‘weird younger siblings’, ‘government conspiracy’ and ‘squirrels’ under her breath, then made a face at Iris. “Okay, fine. But Snow has to help me too—”

“Hey, when did I get pulled into this?” said sister yelped. “I’m trying to finish my Harry Potter homework, I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

“So do I. Snow, you’ve read it like five times. You’ll just ace it like you normally do.” Apple rolled her eyes. “Just help.”

Snow grumbled, then rolled off the sofa. “As long as I don’t end up filling in all the stupid questions. Applications are always full of those.”

"DAMN YOU." Iris burst out angrily. The others, as usual, ignored her outburst; they knew by now that the girl tended to rage hard, which was really just annoying because it made her seem anti-climatic. "There's probably going to be nothing but stupid questions, so just try and get through them. Or answer them while pretending to be Machiavelli's ghost. That's always fun."

.

.

.

“Are we done are we done are we done—”

“YES, WE’RE DONE.”

"Okay. But when you say we're done, are we done as in _done_ or done as in **done.** Because if we're just _done_ then we still have to—"

"FOR FUCK’S SAKE WE ARE DONE."

"So we've still got the last form—"

"I’M DONE WITH EVERYTHING, INCLUDING YOU. MOSTLY YOU ACTUALLY." Joan flopped onto the floor while Sunny rolled her eyes at her from the other end of the room.

“Oh my God Joan, stop being so dramatic.” She and Zee had relocated themselves to the living room floor of Casa de Platypus (IE Joan and Tish’s dorm room) in an effort to get the work done faster. It seemed to be working.

“YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU’RE NOT MY MOM.”

Tish frowned at her roommate, then prodded her with her foot. “That’s dumb, get up.”

“YOUR MOM IS DUMB.”

Tish stared pointedly at her. Grumbling, Joan pushed herself into an upright position and brushed imaginary dust off her shoulders. “But. We are done, right?” Zee gave a nod of affirmation, causing Joan to cheer loudly. She then promptly crossed over to the balcony.

Sunny began asking what she was doing when Joan abruptly screamed the name their newly christened Founder into the night. Tish made a noise of disbelief. “Bruh. It’s like, 3am.”

Joan yelled an apology. Someone screamed back to shut the fuck up or they would push sixteen dildos up her nether regions. Sunny facepalmed and sighed as Joan replied in kind with various threats involving the other party’s mother and several acts of debauchery.

It was at this point that Maya kicked the door down.

“Oh come on,” Tish groaned, “it was already open. Like, not locked, open.”

“Oh. Um. Sorry.” Maya hastily apologised. “In the name of dramatics and all that. Anyway, forms?”

They were then avalanched upon by a mountain of application forms. Sunny and Joan high-fived each other in the background.

As a stream of cursing erupted from the mountain (volcano?), the door was kicked open again by a sophomore with glinting megane glasses.

“God damn it,” Tish muttered.

“I’ll check to make sure it’s not permanently damaged later,” offered Jordan, filing in behind his twin. “It shouldn’t be, I don’t think my sister can kick that hard.”

“Objection!” Iris pushed her glasses up, pointing her finger at him. “I can totally kick harder than you, and you know it. The Finger of Justice tells me so.”

Jordan blinked at the aforementioned digit, rolled his eyes and gently herded his sister away from the door as the other two members of their quartet tottered into the room carrying large stacks of paper.

“This is such a waste of trees,” Snow commented dryly. “Why are we carrying these when you two aren’t doing anything, again?”

“Because you love us!” Iris grinned. “Also, someone needed to point out the way. And what better way to do that than with the FINGER OF—”

She was interrupted by Jordan tackling her onto the floor. As the healthy sibling squabbling ensued, Apple dumped her tower of forms onto the floor. “Oh my God, I hope you have somewhere to keep these.”

Maya burst out of the volcano, the sheets on top sliding off and falling to the floor. “Well, I’m pretty sure the forms say somewhere that we’re supposed to submit them to the Secretary of the Student Council or something, so…”

Apple groaned. “Are you kidding me.”

“And that is my cue,” said Joan, tripping and falling into the conversation. “Out of the kindness of my heart, I am going to let you leave the forms here until morning.” She said from the floor, and then paused. “I’m just not going to be the one to move them to the Student Council room if that happens.”

Maya remained silent for ten seconds exactly, then threw their hands up into the air. “Okay, fine. But the rest of you have to help me move them, though.”

There was a general murmur of dissatisfied assent, but Maya ignored them and nodded and fistpumped like an anime character. “We’re an official club now! I declare us: Club for the Book Fanatic!”

“Not until Tate, Andie, Drift and Lizzie get up here with their forms.”

“Shut up Zee, you’re ruining the moment.”

“Fight me, Sun.”

.

.

.

“So, what exactly is math like in Fandom High, anyway?” Jordan asked as he took a seat in the lecture theatre. Water shrugged and sat down next to him, tossing her black hair over her shoulder.

“You’ll find out in about…” she glanced at her watch, “five, four, three, two—”

“GOOD MORNING FANDOM HIGH,” sang a loud, baritone voice. “IT’S TIME FOR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL LESSON OF THE DAY.”

And then the man with the puffiest white beard Jordan had ever seen did a grand jeté through the doors.

Jordan heard himself say, “oh my _fucking_ God,” but was too busy staring open-mouthed at their lecturer to even register it. Was that a _tie-dye, math-themed tie_?

To his credit, the guy hadn’t even seemed to notice. “MY NAME,” he announced, “IS GALILEO ISAAC PYTHAGORAS MATH. Or just Eggs for short, if you’re that lazy. I have been assigned to be your math teacher for this year.”

Stunned silence filled the hall. Jordan immediately resolved to just refer to him as Professor Math.

“Now I know what you’re thinking. What is he doing here? Why is he wearing _only_ a math-themed tie and a kilt?

Are my pants the right way around today? FEAR NOT MY SMALL DISCIPLES, FOR I HAVE ALL THE ANSWERS.”

A small, yet incredibly audible thump sounded from across the theatre. Lizzie had just slammed their head on the desk in front of them.

“That’s strange, I thought Piscatelli loved math.” Water noted. “I guess even they have their limits.”

Jordan swore. “God damn it. Is this really how all Fandom High math lessons are going to go?”

“Well, we tend to start out with algebra, and then we go kind of into trigonometry, but not really.” Water tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. Jordan thought she was beautiful, and that her eyes glinted like starlight. Sometimes they seemed to be a gorgeous ocean blue, but in the few days that he had known her, he had seen her eyes flash green like a fresh pickled toad. And her hair was of course as dark as a blackboard.

Water didn’t conquer the Dark Lord though. Jordan blinked and shuddered. What the hell was he thinking?

“So yeah, math in Fandom High is pretty solid curriculum wise.” Water finished. “Are you okay? You look kind of dazed.” She gave him an inquisitive look. “I mean, it’s kind of surprising that you’re in here, considering how few sophomores are good enough to get into the Advanced Math class to begin with. Are you confused, or…”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jordan shrugged. Professor Math was still rambling on about the beauty of mathematics, or whatever, so Jordan took the time to cast a furtive glance at Lizzie. “Is Lizzie okay, though?”

.

.

.

“This is the most second hand embarrassment I have ever felt from a lecturer in my life.”

Drift patted Lizzie on the head. “I mean, it can’t be that bad, right?”

They let out another small groan as Drift continued patting. “Ugh, I’m just. I understand, but also I feel like he’s ruining math for the greater population out there.”

“Well, math is already kind of ruined for me anyway. So that’s not really a big deal.”

“But Drift, you don’t understand!” Lizzie sat up and turned to look her friend in the eye. Drift blinked owlishly in response. “ _Algebra is beautiful and perfect_.”

“...I’m not exactly sure what you’re getting at here.”

Lizzie threw their hands up into the air. “Like! Algebra is so great! It’s so simple and worth understanding and it’s _so fun_ and I love it. Like, algebra is my friend. I would actually marry algebra, Drift. I love it so much, I would marry it heterosexually.”

Drift raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe not heterosexually, I’m still really gay. I would marry algebra _homosexually_ , though.”

“I cannot believe we are having this conversation right now,” Drift lamented. “What decisions did I make in my life that led to this happening right here, right now?”

“You chose to room with me, that’s what happened.”

“Ah.” Drift nodded sagely. “That makes sense.”

Lizzie paused. “Okay, but how could we make math more appealing?”

“Why are we making math more appealing? It’s _math_ . Specifically, math in _Fandom High_.”

“Um, yeah, but I’m sure I could make other people love it _somehow_.” They reached into their bag and produced a spiral notebook and a pen. “Come on, I need ideas here. Outreach? Math week?”

Drift rolled her eyes, which Lizzie ignored in favour of listing more options. “Math-themed bake sale? God no, that’s almost about as embarrassing as this math teacher. Ooh, got it!” Lizzie snapped their fingers sharply, which made Drift wince a little bit.

“What is it?”

“ _Math Fandom_.”

“I’m sorry, did I just hear that right?” Drift stared as Lizzie started outlining a curriculum in the spiral. “Because if I did hear you just suggest creating a math fandom, that’s amazing. I might also be hearing things, please bring me to the nearest Nurse Joy immediately.”

“Come on!” Lizzie grinned. “It is an excellent idea and should definitely be encouraged. Like, we’ve got so much to work with here. Literally. We’ve got up till infinity.”

Drift stared blankly at them, then sighed. “Okay, I guess.” She thought for a bit, then said tentatively, “I could probably see 6/7 working as an OTP.”

Lizzie nodded, jotting it down. “Two parallel lines that are destined to, but can never meet?”

“Complementary angles are soul mates, and supplementary angles are best friends.”

“Numbers and variables are always at war.”

“Irrational numbers are the mathematical equivalent of the Illuminati, because everyone’s always claiming they’re not real.”

“0 wants to take over the world (or at least the tri-graph area) because he’s sick of everyone treating him like he’s just nothing, and he wants that to change.”

“Alternatively, this is a John Green book and X is a Manic Pixie Dream Girl just trying to find her place in the world, which is why we always seem to be looking for her.”

“Maybe X is also dating M, and B is constantly jealous. Haha, constantly. It’s funny because I made a math pun.”

Drift cringed. “If you promise never to do that again, I’ll help you with your proposal to the Panel and everything.”

“Deal.”

.

.

.

“They seem to be doing fine.” Water gestured with her hands helplessly. “I don’t know. I don’t know Piscatelli that well. I know Breeze doesn’t like them that much.”

“Breeze?”

“Oh! You don’t know Breeze yet. Right.” Water grinned, her perfect smile glinting in the fluorescent lecture theatre lighting. “Breeze is the Student Council Prez. Breeze Burlin,” she added.

“Oh. Um, okay.” Jordan said, slightly taken aback. “I didn’t know you were friends with the Student Council President.”

Water waved a hand dismissively. “Of course I’m friends with Breeze. It’s not like the vice-president should hate her head of Student Council, right?” she laughed.

Jordan paused. “Wait, you’re the vice-president of Student Council? What the fuck?”

There was a beat, and then, “the vice-president of Student Council almost got me detention on the _first day of school_?”

“Okay but, we wouldn’t have gotten caught. I made sure of that.” Water pointed out.

“Okay but, _still_.”

“Water under the bridge!” Water flailed a little bit. “Oh my god, I accidentally pun-ed on my own name. I’m so sorry.”

“That was fucking awful.”

“Hey! I apologised.” Water brightened. “Anyway, you should come sit with us during lunch! That’s me, and my regular table,” she clarified.

Jordan had noticed her sitting with the same group for the past week. He glanced back and Lizzie and Drift, who were now doodling on the same notebook and making small chittering noises. “I don’t know.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I kind of promised to sit with my sister for lunch again.”

“Oh come on, Jordan. It’s the third week of school. It’s perfectly fine to sit with people other than your sister.”

“I’m not—” Jordan caught himself. “I mean, I’ve been sitting with other people. Like, Apple and Snow.”

“They’re also your siblings, they don’t count.”

“I sit with Joan and Sunny!”

Water winced almost imperceptibly. “Well, they’re still Iris’s friends.” She sighed. “Look, I just want to get to know you a little better, okay? I’ve only seen you in classes, and we don’t even get to talk that much because you insist on paying attention in class for some reason, when, as I’ve previously mentioned, you can generally get by in Fandom High by applying critical thinking and ignoring the screaming fangirls.”

Jordan still looked doubtful.

“I’m just worried. You keep sitting with the same people and I’m not especially sure that’s _healthy_. Meet a few people outside that circle for once, okay?” He still seemed hesitant, so Water added, “it’s literally just one lunch. You don’t have to do it again if you don’t ever want to.”

“...okay, I guess.”

“Excellent!” Water cheered and punched her fist in the air like a shonen anime protagonist. “Meet you out the door right after this period.”

“AH YES, MISS WHISHEART, IS THERE ANYTHING YOU WOULD LIKE TO SHARE WITH THE CLASS?”

“Nothing at all. I’m just proclaiming my love for mathematics, yes that is most definitely what I am doing. Uh, definitely not having any other conversations. Nope. Nada.”

.

.

.

“Oh my God, you’re Jordan? I’ve heard so much about you!” gushed the girl with fluffy brown hair. Jordan was mildly perplexed.

“Exactly what have you been telling your friends about me?”

Her petite neighbour laughed derisively. “Oh nothing much, just that you’re very cute, and that you have nice hair, and that your laugh is the _cutest thing ever_ —”

Water swatted her hands at the blonde, who made a face in return. “Hush! That is completely untrue.” She turned back to Jordan, then continued, “Jordan, this is Breeze Burlin. And that,” she gestured at the brunette, who was pulling a copy of Twilight out of her tote bag, “is Gaia Gretchen.”

“Hi!” Gaia waved at Jordan, then flipped open the Twilight book. “I would love to get to know you more later, but I’ve got a test to prep for in my next class.”

“I still don’t understand why you need to study when you already know the material like the back of your hand. Better than the back of your hand, actually. Gaia, how many moles are there on the back of your hand?” Breeze grinned.

“Like, three?”

“It’s two, actually. How many chapters are there in Twilight?”

“Twenty-four.” Gaia said immediately. “Plus the epilogue and preface, which doesn’t exactly fit the definition of preface, but whatever. It doesn’t detract from the overall value of the book!”

“Sure, hun.” Water snorted. “Your commitment to the series is admirable, though.”

“I just really identify with Bella, okay?” Gaia looked like she had stars in her eyes. “Edward would make the _best_ boyfriend ever.”

“Sure, if you consider the best boyfriend ever to be kind of creepy and a vampire.” said a redheaded boy, sliding onto the bench next to Gaia, who moved over to make space for him. “Who’s this?”

“Oh. Fire, this is Jordan.” Water smiled. “Jordan, this is Fire Flame.”

Jordan blinked, then pinched his nose bridge, sighing. “I can’t believe you’re named after the four classical elements. Am I living in a fanfiction, or something?”

“Yes.” said Breeze.

“Jesus fuck.”

Awkward silence ensued. Jordan poked the potatoes and molasses on his plate, wishing he hadn’t agreed to this. But he was doing this for Water, he argued with himself. She had been nice to him, instead of ditching him like his idiot twin, even if he did end up missing his first class here.

Speaking of said twin, she promptly entered the cafeteria laughing about something with Sunny. Both were covered in copious amounts of glitter. They must have come from what, Disney? Jordan didn’t really know either of their timetables very well.

“So,” Water said abruptly, placing her elbows on the table. “What club are you thinking of joining? I mean, I’m a cheerleader already, but I’m not sure you’re interested in that.”

Jordan was about to reply when Gaia did it for him. “I saw you scribble something on the football club sign up sheet, right? Are you going for that?”

“I mean…” Jordan paused. “I don’t actually know.”

“Jordan, not being in a club is social suicide.” Breeze rolled her eyes. “You won’t have any friends. I mean, you will, you’ve got us now, but you need to rise higher on the social ladder.” She flipped her hair. “Of course, you can’t rise any higher than us, but it’s good to know who you’re dealing with.”

“...um, okay. I was thinking of trying out for football, I guess, but—”

“Ooh!” Gaia clapped her hands together. “Fire’s on the football team! Maybe he can help you out with that!”

The boy had been consuming his food so quietly, Jordan had almost forgotten he was there. Fire grabbed his (thankfully empty) milk carton and crushed it between his hands.

...was this a joke, or an anime episode?

Actually, knowing Fandom High, it could very well be either. Or both.

“Okay, but what kind of football, though.” Jordan said, reaching over to his milk carton and taking a long sip. “Because I’m into—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Fire said. “You’ll be in the _right_ kind.”

“Wait. What does that mean. The fuck does that even mean.”

“Chill Jordan.” Water chided him. “Fire knows what you’re like. Or I know what you’re like, and I’ll get Fire to put you into a good spot.”

“Quarterback.”

“What?”

Fire’s bright red eyes bored into him. “You look like you’ve got the face for it.”

“How is that even relevant at all?”

“It just…” Fire paused for effect, then curled his fingers into a fist dramatically. “Feels right.”

.

.

.

Iris squinted across the cafeteria, her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to pinpoint the silhouettes seated next to her twin. “Who the hell are those guys, anyway? The ones seated next to Jordan?”

Joan glanced up briefly from her bento, stared for three seconds then went back to eating. The girl was seated across the steel table from Iris, who was still staring in their direction. “Water Whisheart, I think,” she said while chewing, “I don’t know her that well, but she’s a junior. And I’m not. Hence my lack of familiarity.”

“Water?” Sunny’s head snapped up from waffling down pancakes. She had taken a seat with Iris, Joan and Tish today, with Tate and Andie opting to sit with Drift and Lizzie instead, the cafeteria being in a shortage of big tables following the past week’s incident. The Danny Phantom class still blamed the Supernatural fandom for starting it. The administration blamed both of them. In any case, half the tables had now been glued to the ceiling, and it was taking them awhile to get them back down.

Sunny’s eyes followed the direction of Iris’s remarkably persistent squint. “Oh. Yeah, her. Yikes.” Iris gave her a questioning look. “Nothing.” The full force of Iris’s squint was now on Sunny. Sunny sliced up another piece of pancake. “No, really.”

“As far as I know,” Joan cut in, “she’s a Big Name Disney fan or something. I hear she does pretty well in class. Also, she’s the head of That One Cheerleader Clique and people think she’s really pretty. Or something. Which I mean, I guess, but also like. I don’t understand why people seem to care so much about that kind of thing.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re ace, Joan,” said Sunny, reaching for her glass of orange juice.

Joan shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”

Iris glanced between her two friends, then flailed rapidly, almost knocking over her water-bottle. “No, but really. Who is she. What is she doing here. What does she want. Where does she live. Where did she come from. Where did she go. Where did she come from—”

“Cotton-eyed Joe!” Joan finished cheerfully.

Iris ignored her. “That’s my TWIN.”

“You could just go ask him,” added Sunny. She was now drawing butterflies in maple syrup using her fork with great precision. “I mean, he is, in fact, your twin. I’m sure he would tell you about her if he knew.”

Joan scoffed. “You don’t need to ask Jordan to know who Water Whisheart is. You just need this.” She rummaged around in her knapsack, pulling out a large scroll of parchment that didn’t seem like it should have been able to fit inside the much smaller bag. There was a crashing sound from inside. Joan groaned. “God, are you kidding me? It took me forever to arrange those books. I can’t even climb into this shit unless I’m sure that no one will cart the stupid bag off to another location.”

“Is that a Bag of Holding?” Iris asked, amused. She poked it a little, and something inside made a squawking sound.

Joan stuck her face into the bag. “Shut up!” she called, and there was a somewhat echoey chittering sound in response. She pulled her head out, rolling her eyes as she snapped the bag shut. “Yeah, and it’s a pain in the ass. Anyway, that’s not important. This is.” She unrolled the scroll triumphantly.

Iris blinked. “Joan, I’m only seeing a whole bunch of lines. I have no idea how to make any sense of this.”

Joan grinned wide, her teeth glinting like an anime character in the fluorescent cafeteria lighting. “This is,” she declared with a flourish, “the great relationship map of Fandom High. Mine own creation,” she added as an afterthought. “Just to be clear. It was one of my Harry Potter projects from last year. We were asked to make a magical, non-Dark artifact that utilised magical rules and spells from the books. So I made a Marauder’s Map thing. Except with Fandom High. And shipping.”

“Yeah, and it was awful.” Tish chimed in. “There was ink splattered all over our room for days.”

“I cleaned it up!”

“No you didn’t. You tried to Scourgify the room and almost got hauled up by the Panel for misuse of fandom powers.”

“Yeah,” Joan argued, “and it was within the rules of the project to clean up after yourself. So I did. Anyway,” she gestured to the map again, “this is the relationship map of everyone in Fandom High. Anyone who has ever dated or is dating anyone? Here on this map. I don’t check it a lot, because it’s a pain to roll out, but this map is going to be your guide to Fandom High.” She took a deep breath.

She poked the map, and the lines reshuffled themselves to match the layout of the cafeteria, round walls and all. “Now, where you sit in the cafeteria is crucial because you’ve got everybody there. You’ve got your freshmen,” She pointed to the picnic benches outside the cafeteria, where a group of what did indeed appear to be freshmen were clustered around the tables, “POTC guys,” her hand swivelled to a group that seemed to be arguing over treasure maps.

“Preps, JV jocks,” Sunny picked up smoothly, gesturing towards the respective tables. “Asian nerds, cool asians…” She waved her hand vaguely at a table of Avatar fans. Iris could hear them arguing about Makorra versus Korrasami. Guess some things never changed.

“Varsity jocks,” Joan continued, poking the section of the map labelled in all caps with ‘QUIDDITCH TEAM’, “unfriendly OITNB fans.” Her finger moved to hover over the ‘REALITY TV’ corner. “People who can’t stop watching Masterchef, people who refuse to watch Masterchef…”

“Desperate wannabes, burnouts,” Sunny ticked them off her fingers, “sexually active band geeks, the greatest people you will ever meet,” she made a sweeping gesture around the table, “and the worst.” She pointed dramatically at Water’s table.

“Beware the Plastics.”

Sunny held her pose for a few seconds, then dropped her arm and went back to waffling down pancakes. Iris blinked in confusion. “What?”

Tish sighed as Joan and Sunny proceeded to perform an extended brofist routine. “They practiced that entire thing last night in preparation for this. It’s a Mean Girls thing, but adapted. Anyway,” she pulled the map over to her side of the table, shoving her now empty bowl of seaweed noodles to the side. “This thing is the map of all relationships in the school, like Joan said just now. Here,” she pointed at an inkblot labelled ‘Water Whisheart’, “are all of Water’s relationships. Each line is what we call a shipping lane.”

“That’s the worst pun I’ve ever heard in my entire life, but HELL YEAH, SHIPPING.” Iris looked closer at the map. Water did seem to have a lot of shipping lanes, a few blue, green and many, many pink. “What do all the pink lines stand for?”

“All the people who have ever had crushes on Water.” Joan said absently, flipping through her notebooks. “She didn’t like any of them back, as far as I can remember.”

“Goddammit, so there aren’t actually that many ships?” Iris frowned.

“No.”

“BUT WHAT IS LIFE WITHOUT AN ARMADA.”

“Iris, please.” Joan flicked her arm (“Ow.”). “But yeah, as far as I can tell, they’re pretty chill.”

Sunny made a face, then stood up. “I’m going to go clear my tray. Talking about Water is blegh.”

As the rest of the group stacked things onto trays and followed her, Iris turned to Tish. “What’s up with Sunny and Water?” Tish shrugged.

“No idea,” she replied. “Maybe some deep dark history that she hasn’t told us about or something. Maybe Water is secretly a Sith or something. No wait, people are into that here. Uh. Maybe she’s… secretly Water’s father.” She paused. “Well, probably not, let’s be realistic here.”

“We’re in Fandom High,” Iris pointed out dryly. “Nothing is realistic here.”

“Goddamn, you’re right.” Iris glanced back at the table, where Fire Flame had just grabbed a milk carton and crushed it between his hands.

.

.

.

“So.” Maya glanced around the room. “Here we are.”

They had spent lunch period running around the various blocks, trying to see if any teacher or TA would be willing to give them a room for their club. She hadn’t been very successful — Nico di Angelo had seen her, balked and disappeared into the shadows, while Shu Takumi had just yelled something about gavels and ran further down the hallway. Maya had let him. They didn’t want to be involved with whatever he was on. Maya had then given up on their quest, heading to the cafeteria to snag an apple or something before her next class, when they had met Apple, on their way out from the exact same place.

Apple, being a member of the student council, had said she would do her best to get the club a room to meet, but with no promises. Maya had tackle-hugged her and gone to get lunch.

Now, here CftBF (Maya’s own hurriedly cooked-up acronym) was, about to begin their first meeting.

Apple had pulled through in the end — she did managed to get the club a room to hold their first meeting in, but it was barely a room. The place smelled vaguely of mold, and the windows were glued shut by an unknown substance that Maya did not wish to investigate further. The few desks and chairs that occupied the room were stacked against a corner, most of them missing a leg or two, or three, or four. Or five, in the case of the singular round table leaning against the wall of the room. Some of them were also covered in gum, the result of someone’s Noodle Incident, most likely.

On the bright side, there was a lot of space. Maya was standing in front of the whiteboard, the rest of the group either standing with her or sitting cross-legged on the floor.

In hindsight, Maya realised that she should have had a better plan for their first meeting. All she had written down on a scrap of paper she had snatched from a passing Tate in the library were two words, ‘Introductions’ and ‘Icebreakers’. She did a quick scan of the room, trying to pretend that she was looking each one in the eye to create a deep sense of connection.

She did recognise most of the people here. She wasn’t super sure of all their names, although they had been there when they had handed the huge piles of forms up to Senior Management. The receptionist, Intern Dana, had sort of sighed deeply and taken all of the forms, then stuffed them somewhere in the back of the office before handing them the final confirmation form, which Maya had signed immediately and stuffed back into her outstretched hand. Really, it was like these people didn’t have a proper conception of student time or something.

Joan, Sunny and Iris were clustered towards the left side of the room, arguing quietly over what looked like it might be a Cabbage Patch Kid, but most distinctly wasn’t, judging from its clothing. Maya was pretty sure they didn’t make Cabbage Patch Kids dressed as Nosferatu. To their right, Tish had sat herself on the floor next to Apple and Snow and Jordan, and Maya wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about either. Something about video games? Sitting a few feet away were Tate and Andie, who were both scrolling down their phones. Andie had brought with her a small potted plant, that she had placed in front of her. Maya thought it looked vaguely condescending, but they couldn’t be sure if they were imagining things. Standing slightly behind them were Zee, Drift and Lizzie and Devi, the freshman telling the rest about her day at school, judging from the slightly panicked “math professor?” that Maya overheard.

Tate caught Maya’s eye and gave her an encouraging smile. Maya tried to smile back, although their expression probably seemed more like a grimace. They coughed.

Everyone in the room turned to look at her. “Hi,” they squeaked. “I’m Maya, and I started this club yesterday at 3am.”

“Hi Maya,” chorused Joan, Sunny and Iris, bursting into giggles. Tate scowled at them.

“Guys, be nice.” The trio quickly sobered up, and stood up straight to show they were paying attention.

Maya gulped, then continued. “Anyway, is everyone here?” There was a general murmur of assent, which they took to be a good thing. “Alright, then I guess we can start?”

She pulled out the gavel she had slipped out of Shu Takumi’s pocket earlier in the day, thinking it might come in useful. Well, if nothing, it would at least be dramatic. She slammed the gavel on the whiteboard twice.

“Let the first meeting of Club for the Book Fanatic begin!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up when it gets written. I'm in like, the middle of it right now, but also the middle of A levels, so. Jazz hands, I guess. Beware a lot of introductions that you will have to slog through, possibly unnecessarily, because it provides you with a pool of potential Chekhov's Gun information. Are they Chekhov's Guns? Is it a Chekhov's Armoury? Who the hell knows, really. 
> 
> Anyway, comment as you feel is appropriate.


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